From the Wrong Side of the Tracks
by descended
Summary: He never thought his life would go the way it did.
1. Chapter 1

~o~

He first learned what pain tasted like when Royce, who lived across the street, punched him in the jaw for talking back at him. He was five years old and didn't know that men weren't supposed to cry so he began to sob in big, gaping gasps that had his grandmother rushing outside to see what was wrong.

"Stupid little punk," Royce had jeered. "Crying like a little bitch!"

His grandmother had reprimanded Royce immediately and told him she better not see him around. Royce had run away a few weeks later. He was only twelve and Edward didn't understand why he was always so angry. Grandma said that it was because Royce hadn't been hugged enough as a child and he wondered why his mom and dad never hugged him. Was there something wrong with him?

He was seven years old when his grandmother first punished him. He'd stolen a dollar in quarters from her purse as a dare from his cousin, Emmett, and he'd been punished by having his television privileges taken away. He'd pouted because he had wanted to watch _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles_ that afternoon and instead had to sit in the kitchen helping his grandmother prepare dinner.

She had looked at him with quiet, dark eyes as she mixed the dough with her hands before speaking. "Edward," she had said solemnly. "Do you know why I punished you?"

"Because I did something bad," he had replied sullenly and she had nodded her head, before wiping her hands with a wet rag. She had knelt down on the kitchen floor, cupping his chin in his hands and studying him silently before saying, "Your mom and dad aren't loving people. They don't know how to raise children, Edward. I think it's because I never really connected with your father when he was your age. He was always more like your grandfather than me."

"Why don't they ever hug me?" he had asked, tears filling his eyes. "Don't they love me, Grandma?"

"Oh, they love you, sweetheart," she had sighed as she wrapped him in her arms, smelling like spices and homemade bread. "They love you but don't know how to show it." And he had cried in the kitchen, into his grandmother's shoulder.

It was the last time he would let her see him cry. Men don't cry.

~o~


	2. Chapter 2

~o~

His parents had disappeared when he was ten. He hadn't really noticed since he didn't really know them. Other than their names, Elizabeth and James, he had no idea who his parents were. His grandmother was his whole world and he didn't need anyone else. One morning, he awoke to the sounds of his grandmother's voice shouting angrily.

"And what is going to happen to Edward? That boy needs you!"

"He can't come with us," his father's voice had answered. "We don't have room for him."

"Don't have room?" his grandmother had repeated as he crept from his bed to the door, peering out into the living room. His parents stood, with all their possessions in a suitcase he later found out, by the front door, stone-faced and his grandmother had shaken her head, sadness tinging her voice as his father had held out papers, saying, "It's his birth certificate and any other documents we found with his name on it. Mom, you raise him. You'll do a better job than we can."

"James, don't do this," she had whispered. "I will never forgive you, but most importantly, your son will never forgive you."

It took him two days to realize that he wasn't the son of Elizabeth and James, he was Maggie Masen's grandson and that was all that mattered.

He didn't remember what his parents sounded like or what they smelled like, although sometimes late at night, he'd wake up with a lump in his throat because shouldn't children remember their parents? Shouldn't children love their parents? Wasn't that how it worked?

He started junior high and that's when he discovered that he had power. A sneer, a dark look, a growl could make even the toughest of the jocks tremble in their designer running shoes. He became infamous for being mean and cruel to those weaker than he was, and also infamous for being the one to go to when they needed something illegal done.

He conned money out of the rich boys and girls, money that would be easily replaced by their mommy's and daddy's. He didn't feel guilty about it because he did what he had to do. Survival of the fittest and all that.

~o~


	3. Chapter 3

~o~

He met Jasper one day after school. Emmett insisted the new kid in town would be perfect for their small gang so Edward agreed to meet him. They'd met in a field two miles from town, near a forest where there was an old cabin and bridge. Emmett had decided that Jasper's initiation would be to cross the bridge and even though he'd known it was a bad idea, he had agreed.

Jasper had made it across but on his way back, his foot went through one of the boards. He'd scrambled, his large ears turning red with surprise and fear as he began to run across the bridge, the rotted boards giving out beneath his feet, and the other's had shouted that he needed to hurry.

He'd been three feet from where they stood when the rope holding the bridge up gave way. Edward had lunged forward, grabbing Jasper's hand just as he began to fall and Emmett had shouted, grabbing Edward's jeans, yelling at the others to pull them up.

Jasper had been trembling and Edward had laughed, even as his heart slammed into his ribs, saying, "Shit, you got some balls, man..." as the others laughed along with him. That was when Edward began to realize that he could have any one of these boys die for him with a look.

He didn't know if he wanted that kind of power.

He found himself in charge of the lives of these boys and he wasn't sure if he felt okay with that. After all, he was a kid himself but these kids, these children like him would look at him with awe and hero worship in their eyes, especially Jasper. He didn't know if he could walk away from that.

He didn't know if he was strong enough.

~o~


	4. Chapter 4

~o~

His sophomore year he met Chelsea Pierre.

He met Chelsea Pierre and had his heart ripped out of his chest. Up until then, he had been able to fool himself into believing that he'd learned to lock his heart away. He'd told himself that people would hurt him if he let them and he'd kept everyone that wasn't family as far away as he could.

Yeah, he'd hooked up with random girls. He was a normal hormonal male and he'd lost his virginity when he was fourteen to a girl named Sasha, who had smelled like cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. She'd been pretty, there was no doubt about that, but she'd also been an easy lay, eighteen and a dope fiend that disappeared a few days after their tête-à-tête.

Chelsea was different. She was wild and crazy, didn't care what others thought of her, didn't care what everyone expected her to be and he thought she was fucking amazing for having her own mind, unlike the rest of the rich kids in their small town.

He fucked her, hard and fast 'cause she wanted it that way. She said she was sick of Garrett's bullshit and had demanded he fuck her, pursing her candy red lips in a way that drove him insane. But then she was cold and ignoring him, and his heart cracked in a way that he hadn't felt since his parents had left.

He hated her but he wanted her. He didn't know if he loved her the way she wanted him too. Chelsea was too fucked up to love, he thought.

And then he realized Chelsea had exactly what she wanted — two men fighting for her attention. Chelsea hadn't given a shit about him, it was all about her. It didn't matter in the end, she died from an overdose the summer before their senior year. He watched her casket be lowered into the ground with hatred festering in his heart.

He ignored the comments from Garrett and his friends who blamed him for Chelsea's death. The only thing that kept him from bashing their heads in was Bella. She always gave him a pointed look before turning to her friends and telling them to fuck off. He had a soft spot for Chelsea's best friend. She was the one he would call when Chelsea was too fucked up or when she would ignore him for days on end. He respected her — she was always straight with him even when it wasn't what he wanted to hear.

He had no idea what to do after his high school graduation. Bella was leaving for New York in a week and he mourned briefly for his friendship with the vivacious brunette because what would she have to do with a high school graduate that worked in a garage fixing cars and motorcycles? He visited her during the week and helped her pack.

And finally said casually as he picked up a large box labeled 'clothes', "I might come visit you in New York someday."

She looked up, her eyes bright as she said, "Oh yeah? You gonna do a road trip?"

He laughed as he looked over at her, his heart twisting at the idea of her leaving him behind. "Maybe."

He went with her father to see her off. The last image he had of her was her turning around and waving, her hair glittering in the sunshine. It would be thirteen years before he saw her again and by then, there'd be a whole decade of stories for them to share.

~o~


	5. Chapter 5

~o~

His grandmother died the year after his high school graduation. Her heart finally gave out and he found himself having to raise his two younger cousins, also abandoned by their parents. He went to night classes when the oldest turned sixteen and he wondered what a twenty-two year old male would do with a degree in Art?

He raised his cousins, watching them graduate, and sending them all off to college. His cousins scattered to the winds, like the poets and dreamers that they were, but he kept rooms for them, clean and neat like his grandmother would have wanted. He knew his grandmother would have been proud.

He finally decided to fix up the small little house he'd lived in his whole life. He added a second story and made it bigger for his own sake since he no longer had anyone but himself to take care of. Mr. Swan came to visit him every now and then, bringing news about Bella but when he moved with his fiancée to Denver, Edward knew he'd lost his only connection to his past.

All the boys from his gang had scattered. Jasper was killed in a motorcycle accident one night years ago and Emmett had never returned from prison. He was killed during a prison brawl by one of the guards and Edward mourned his lost cousin because family was important.

Family was everything.

~o~


	6. Chapter 6

~o~

He never thought his life would go the way it did.

Felix, an old Italian man who owned the only tattoo parlor in the area was selling his shop. He went in to see the old man and was amazed at how different it looked without the photographs of various people with tattoos, himself included, off the walls. It felt naked and cold, and he shivered before calling towards the back where the old man had appeared, white hair around his shoulders and a leather vest decorating his white shirt that complimented his deeply tanned skin.

"What's going on, Felix?" he'd asked and the old man had smiled, revealing missing teeth as he said, "No one wants to come in here anymore. All of the youth are now going out to Seattle for their body art."

"I'll buy it," he'd said impulsively, thinking about the money his grandmother had managed to stow away. "I'll take it off your hands, Felix."

"You got to feed yourself, Edward," the old man had protested. Edward had shrugged and said, "I've got enough to take care of myself for a while. What do you say Felix? Will you let me buy it?"

The old man had been silent before saying, "No."

Disappointment and embarrassment filled him, Edward turned to leave but Felix had spoken up, saying with a twinkle in his eye, "Edward, I'll give you the shop. Call it a gift for being like the son I never had."

~o~


	7. Chapter 7

~o~

Felix gave him the opportunity to become a small business owner and a tattoo artist. The business thrived, becoming one of the hottest parlors and places to go in the Pacific Northwest. Edward found himself becoming a sort of celebrity with photographs in national tattoo magazines and people requesting to interview him.

He began to work with people to help his shop become a chain and opened a shop in San Francisco when he was twenty six. He found himself flying out to New York and that was his life for years until he was thirty one. He'd fly all over the place, looking for new ideas and possible artists to come work in his shop.

Los Angeles, Vegas, and finally New York City. Glittering, gluttonous New York where the people would rather sneer at you than smile, where murders and crime were normal for the natives, and where a small town boy like himself was really just a small fish in a big pond. He was amazed at the amount of people out in front and said as much to his promoters who chuckled at his naïveté.

Then he saw her. She stood near the back, hair long and pulled back into a thick braid, an amused smile on her features. The years had molded her into a sleek, beautiful woman and he could see that she wasn't surprised at all to see him.

He answered questions to the press, signed a few autographs for tattoo enthusiasts, even promised to come back and tattoo a few people. When it was over and the crowd had dispersed, he went up to her and said, "Looks like you belong here."

She grinned. "I could say the same for you."

He grinned back and said, "Damn, I missed you Bella."

Her eyes warmed and she said, "Same here, Edward."

~o~


	8. Chapter 8

~o~

They stayed in touch after New York. He heard about the men she dated and she heard about the girls he tried to date. Soon though, he found himself looking forward to her phone calls in a way that made him wonder and he snickered because even at the age of thirty-three, he didn't understand women. And Bella wasn't like most girls. No, she was a woman and he could see some of his grandmother in her in a way that made him feel warm inside his chest and stomach.

She came to visit suddenly one day. She entered his shop with a French bulldog on a leash and leaned against the counter as she asked, "So if I get something tattooed, can I get it free?"

He'd looked up and grinned at the sight of her as his employees all glanced at each other in bemusement. The brunette woman was sleek and cool in a black pantsuit and hair pinned into a twist. Nothing at all like the women the boss normally dated, this one had class in spades.

He quickly gave her a hug before turning his attention to the dog that laid beside his owner. Bella studied him, the shaven head was long gone, shoulder-length hair pulled into a neat tail at the nape of his neck. He looked up at her, green eyes twinkling with mischief as he said, "I'll take you up on that offer someday."

They met off and on again over the next two years. She told him how she'd run into Garrett once in New York and he'd listened as she said that he'd looked at peace. He was getting married, she had said matter-of-factly, to a woman named Kate. Bella thought she looked so much like Chelsea but didn't think it was appropriate to mention it.

~o~


	9. Chapter 9

~o~

On one of her weekly phone calls, she announced her engagement to a co-worker she had had an on-and-off relationship over the past two years. She didn't take kindly when he turned up uninvited at her apartment in New York the following night, ranting and raving that Jacob wasn't the right person for her. She didn't even get a word in edgewise, before he had his lips on hers. He put his heart on the line and finally told Bella he was in love with her.

They married in a simple ceremony on the beach a few months later. She moved back to Washington and into his home. She gave birth to his two daughters, Maggie and Lucy. They had their dad's eyes and mom's smile, her quick wit and his wicked streak.

At one point in time, Edward found his wife's ex-fiancé standing in front of his house. He arched his brows as he studied the other man, the pressed suit and tie, the haggard look around his shoulders. He shut the door of his black Camaro, saying, "Jacob Black."

The man turned to look at him, dark eyes meeting his green ones silently. He looked behind him to see his four-year-old Maggie watching them, worry written in her green eyes. Smiling, he said, "Call your Mom, would you?"

She obliged, Bella came out the front door in her paint stained t-shirt and jeans. She arched her brows in surprise at the sight of Jacob and said, "Hey baby. Come home early?" as she walked across the lawn. He smiled and said, "Yeah. Lucy inside?"

"She's painting," Bella confided with a smile before turning to face Jacob. Without a word, he went inside.

There were some lines they hadn't ever crossed, it wasn't needed. When she entered the house again, her eyes were sad and tired but she merely smiled and kissed him softly on the lips as their twins chattered happily.

~o~


	10. Chapter 10

~o~

He was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer when his girls graduated from college. He wasn't surprised and neither was Bella. After all, it was normal for him to smoke while working on new tattoo designs or after work, out on the porch. She'd never bothered him about it and he'd never thought about the repercussions. Edward knew he'd die because of it and it was too late for him to quit, despite the doctor's advice. They gave him two years but he lived until his girls were twenty-nine.

One morning, Bella left for an early jog. At the age of sixty-seven, she still prided herself on staying healthy. She entered the house and found Edward, sitting in the backyard where they had created a memorial garden for the people they had lost. He was slumped over slightly, head tilted back, vibrant eyes shut, hair no longer auburn but gray. He wore his favorite jeans and a flannel over his faded old white henley. She took one look at him and went inside to call her daughters, cheeks dry and a sad smile in her eyes.

He died with a smile on his face. Bella knew wherever he was, he was happy. And more importantly, he was waiting for her to join him someday. But not now. After all, she theorized later on to her children and grandchildren, that Edward wanted someone to watch over them for a while. And who better than the woman he had claimed as his wife and best friend.

~o~


End file.
